Yesterday was mother's day. It's a great day to honor those in our lives who are, or act as, mothers. While sitting at the dinner table with our family, we got on the topic of a mother's love. It's cliche, but I never knew the extent to which a mother can love her own child until I became a mother. It's something no one can really understand, not even fathers, until they have their own.
It's primal. It's powerful and it is incomparable to anything else in the world. God help the individual that hurts my child or gets in my way when I try to protect him. I can't even begin to describe how I feel when my son is hurting and I don't know why or I know why and I can't help him.
I think the first time I really felt this intense need, and it is a need, to protect was when Dylan was 4.5 weeks old and we took our first trip to the ER. I was talking to a bunch of residents and it seemed as if each was more incompetent than the one before. On our third trip back to the ER and our second admittance to stay at the hospital, the chief resident came into the room in the ER. He started telling me that they weren't sure, they're trying to figure it out, BLAHBLAHBLAH. I looked at him and very pointedly told him they need to figure it out and tell me what's wrong with my son. I had never heard that tone of my voice before, I had never felt my face making the expressions it was making before.
I have heard that tone and felt those contortions of my face on a number of occasions since then. It doesn't suprise me anymore, it simply reminds me of the fact that I am a mother and no matter what happens in life, no matter where my child is, no matter who he is with or how old he is I am his protector, his advocate and his biggest fan.